


Switching Sides

by junjoumisaki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Order of the Phoenix, Bottom Harry, Dark Harry, Drama, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Multi, Possible Mpreg, Romance, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:09:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junjoumisaki/pseuds/junjoumisaki
Summary: Harry is captured before his fifth year at Hogwarts by Voldemort, who has secret second reason for wanting the Boy-Who-Lived. While in captivity, he is convinced that the Light side isn't as light as it appears, and Decides to join the death eaters by taking the dark mark. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord is scheming on how to get Harry to be his consort.





	1. A Tough Decision

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! This is a story I started thinking it would only be a few pages long. Yea... Turned into a whole giant plot. Enjoy!

Harry sighed for the umpteenth time. He was unsure how long he had been in this damp, dark prison cell, but he knew it had to have been at least almost a week judging by the meager food he had received. The isolation was starting to get to him. All the food was delivered magically by House Elves so he couldn’t speak to them. He couldn’t even taunt any Death Eater guards. There was a magical barrier that blocked him from seeing beyond his cell bars, so he couldn’t even tell if there were even guards watching him. For all he knew Voldy-Shmoldy could be on the other side of his cell dressed in drag while dancing to the Macarena. Yes, the isolation was definitely getting to him if he just thought of Voldemort dressed in drag.

“For Merlin’s sake, just torture me already!” he shouted, his voice echoing throughout the dungeons. “You didn’t kidnap me just to watch me go insane inside of a box! And if you did, you are weirder than I originally thought. Who finds pleasure in watching someone walk in a square for three hours?”

“I am not quite sure if ‘pleasure’ is the correct word, but I do find it humorous to watch you slowly lose your senses. You are yelling at a wall,” Harry whipped around at the sound of the rich, deep voice. He was surprised to see a well-dressed, handsome man who looked to be in his early thirties standing in the far corner of the room.

“Who are you,” he asked, taking a slightly defensive stance. Though he knew it wouldn’t do him any good considering the other man was obviously a wizard; without a wand he was screwed.

The man gave him a mock disappointed look. “I am upset you do not recognize me, my dear Harry. It has been a while since you last saw me like this, but I did not think my appearance would have changed that drastically,” he said.

Harry stared harder at the man who had somehow moved closer to him, trying to recall where he had seen that face before. It did look slightly familiar, maybe a few years older… ‘He looks a lot like young Tom Riddle’ he thought absently. “How!” he exclaimed in horror. “H-How do you look like that!? I destroyed the diary! How? When? H—”

“Do cease your rambling. To answer your question, you only destroyed the container not the soul that was inside. It returned to me, and with it, some of my sanity came back as well. I did another ritual to change my appearance, seeing as how that form would not help draw people to my cause, and this was the result. You should feel honored. You are the first person, other than the few followers I needed to assist me in the ritual, to see me with this new look. Or should I say old?” Voldemort said, chuckling slightly at the last part.

“You tried another ritual after the snake-face fiasco? I’m surprised you didn’t come out of this ritual looking like a prune. You are like a hundred years old,” Harry commented, his voice laced with sarcasm. Not wanting to acknowledge the part of him that found the Dark Lord attractive.

“Watch your mouth boy!” Voldemort snapped. “I came here to offer you freedom. At a price, of course,” he said, in a calmer tone of voice.

Harry was surprised, but quickly covered it with a hard look. “Oh, and what’s that price? An unbreakable vow to obey your every word? Sorry, not interested,” he said.

“Are you sure? For all you know, you might actually enjoy licking my boots. But,” he continued before Harry could snap at him. “That’s not my offer. I want you to join my side. Yes, you would take a vow to never harm me magically or in the muggle fashion. You may also be allowed back at Hogwarts so long as you swear to never to mention joining the Dark to your little friends in the light without my permission. Don’t want Dumbledore to lock you up, now do we?”

Harry’s mouth hung open in shock. Was he serious? Did that idiot actually think that he would accept? Before he could give his anger filled response, Voldemort said, “Wait to give me your answer. I shall give you a week to think it over, and then you can give me your answer. We both know that you are thinking too much like a rash Gryffindor right now to give me a clear answer. I will even help you to make up your mind during the week.” And with that he disapparated. 

Harry stared at the empty space for what felt like hours contemplating over everything that Voldemort had said. He was right. The first thing Harry was going to say was “Fuck no”, which was a very, very Gryffindor type response. He needed to think more like a Slytherin in this kind of situation. What did he mean by ‘Help you make up your mind’? Would he torture him? No, the bastard knew that it would only make him say no if he did that. What then? And could he even join with the man that killed his parents? Yes, he could. But should he? That was the question he needed to be asking. The man killed hundreds of people all for fun. Or did he? Dumbledore never gave clear answers, and he knew just how reliable the media could be at publishing the truth. Maybe he should sleep on it. His head was cloudy enough with the lack of food and water to be contemplating all of this. He’d think more about it once he woke up.

                                                                                        **********

The week passed quietly in Harry’s dark cell. Every day a letter was brought with his food, and various notes would appear throughout the day, pointing out the faults of the light. Asking him why Dumbledore constantly avoided giving him a clear answer, the media and the wizarding public always going back-n-forth between liking him and not, Ron and Hermione’s friendship, there was even a whole letter devoted to just the Dursleys. That one bothered him the most. The more he thought about it, the more confused he got. Even Remus and Sirius had said that Aunt Petunia was horrible, so why did Dumbledore leave him there? Why hadn’t he bothered to check on him? And when he first went to the infirmary, surely Madame Promfrey would have noticed his malnutrition and scars. It took him almost the whole week, but eventually he had to accept that the light wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Though he would have to ask Voldemort about the Dark before he even thought about accepting the offer.

He was walking around the cell in thought when Voldemort finally appeared. “Ready to give me an answer?” he asked, admiring Harry’s form from where he stood on the other end of the cell.

“Not quite yet,” Harry said, casually leaning up against the cold wall behind him. “I agree that the light has faults, but you have yet to show me that the Dark doesn’t. Also, you killed my parents, and many others. How do I know you won’t kill me at some point as well? What exactly is in this for me if I accept? I will not be just another perishable pawn to you, I want a say in things that happen.”

Voldemort’s smile could have caused the dead to shiver in fear. This beautiful boy would finally be his. “I always knew you had some Slytherin in you, but I didn’t expect this much. I am willing to negotiate with you on your place in my ranks. As for the Dark side having flaws? Yes, there are flaws. But what in this world is completely perfect? I admit I went slightly… irrational for a while, but we will not get into that now. The reason the ‘Light side’ hates dark magic or what they call dark magic, is because it is difficult to understand and control. They ban any magic that is hard to handle or more difficult to combat ‘dark’ simply because it would make controlling the masses more challenging. As for the killing of innocent people, those we kill are not innocent. Of course that is not always true, but this is a war, there is going to be the occasional innocent bystander that dies or a misunderstanding leading to someone’s death. In your parents case, I did not want to kill them, but you know of the prophecy, and—”

Confused, Harry interrupted Voldemort’s speech. “What do you mean by ‘prophecy’? I don’t know of any prophecy.”

Voldemort stared at the boy in undisguised shock. “You mean that idiot Dumbledore has not even told you why I attacked you in the first place?” At Harry’s head shake, Voldemort swore silently. “Well, there is a prophecy about us. I only know the first two lines. ‘ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies,’_ it is not much, but I was able to narrow it down to two families. Yours and the Longbottom’s. I, obviously, went after you because you were born exactly on the last day of July,” he said.

“It said ‘power to vanquish’ not ‘kill’, right?” Harry asked. “So that means that I could kill you, but not necessarily would. It sounds self-fulfilling if you ask me, but I’ve only been taking Divination for two years.” 

Voldemort looked thoughtful for a couple of minutes. “Perhaps it was…” he said quietly. “Now as for the others I have killed not being innocent,” he picked up from where he had left off his explanation earlier. “I target muggles who have abused wizards: parents, uncles, etcetera, and those who have harmed wizards, but escaped justice because they are just ‘ignorant muggles who didn’t know what they were doing’. Honestly! If one muggle harms another they go to muggle prison, if a wizard harms another wizard _or_ a muggle they go to Azkaban or get the Kiss, why is it not the same if a muggle harms a wizard! So you see I only go after those who have escaped justice. As for the media’s take on me ‘hating Mudbloods’, that’s not true. I do want them to be more carefully watched though so that they do not go showing muggles magic, I also want them to join Wizarding society earlier than they do now, and to learn about wizarding traditions. I want our people to celebrate the old holidays and traditions. To name a few: Samhain, Yule, and Beltane, which have practically been made extinct with everyone now celebrating muggle holidays. While I was not- me, I may have let my followers get a little out of line, but it will not be like that now. So what do you say Harry, will you join me?”

Harry’s head was spinning with all this new information. “May… May I have some time to think about it? It’s just, that’s a lot of new information to take in,” he said, after almost ten minutes of silence.

“Of course, Harry. I will expect an answer later today,” Voldemort said kindly, apparating from the room with a faint pop.

Harry was surprised by the gentle tone of Voldemort’s voice. Never would he have associated the word kind with Voldemort before this. Now he needed to think. It appeared that Dumbledore had hid more from him than he thought. All Dumbledore wanted was a pawn to do his bidding; someone who wouldn’t question him, and just do as told. Did Remus and Sirius know about the prophecy? And if so, why didn’t they tell him?


	2. An Acquired Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laurie24, your question should be answered in this chapter. I'll explain my reasoning for what takes place in the end notes.

Voldemort stalked through the dim halls of Riddle Manor, his thoughts occupied by the messy-haired boy in his dungeon. Finally, Harry Potter would be his. When the diary’s soul piece returned to him after he had regained his body, he had gained all of the memories that it had. It took time with the memories slowly appearing one by one, but eventually they were all there. At first, he was extremely annoyed at the first year brat who kept writing about how amazing Harry Potter was, ‘Today Harry smiled at me! Do you think he likes me?’, ‘Harry picked up my book after it fell, isn’t he so sweet!’ on and on they went. He was wondering if it was possible to curse people in memories, when instead of the girl, Harry wrote in the diary. Interest piqued, he began to pay closer attention to them. He had started to like the boy who was smarter, more cunning, and humorous than anyone really gave him credit for. And when he saw the determination in those Avada Kedavra eyes as he destroyed the book, he knew that he wanted him. It was just the problem of getting him.

It took almost a year before they found where he lived, but had arrived too late. The boy was being whisked away by those pesky Order members. He had given up hope of capturing the boy before next summer, and then the news came: Harry Potter was in Diagon Alley buying school supplies. The Order had made a mistake in letting him go with them. He got into Diagon Alley by covering himself in a thick cloak. By some strange luck he managed to nab the boy as he was walking by himself, and apparated them both to his manor. Apparation was supposedly impossible from inside the Alley, but he wasn’t a powerful Dark Lord, and Heir to Slytherin, for nothing. 

Since he wanted to woo Harry, he decided to wait until he looked better to talk with him. He knew that his snake-like form was hideous, and that Harry would completely refuse him if he looked that way. So he spent most of the time since his sanity had returned pouring over old text in search of a way to change his appearance into something more attractive, before he found one that would work. The ritual was a long, complex one to complete, and by the time he completed it, Harry had been in the cells a little over a week.

After speaking to him in person twice without them trying to kill each other, the Dark Lord had to admit that Harry was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined, and was braver, spirited, and more cunning than he had ever thought possible. He would make the perfect consort. Of course he had not been given an answer yet, but the choice was evident. Now he needed to make more plans.

“Wormtail!” he called, as he entered his office. Just as he was taking his seat behind the Victorian styled desk, the sniveling rat walked in. “Y-You called, M-Master?” he asked, quivering. “Give me your arm.”

The fat man bared his marked arm to his lord, and Voldemort seized it roughly. Placing his wand to the mark, Voldemort summoned the Death Eaters that had helped with his ritual before shoving the arm away. “Leave me now. And tell the elves to lead Harry to my office in fifteen minutes,” he demanded.

“B-But my Lord, w—” the fat man started.

“Do not question me Wormtail. Now go!” Voldemort shouted. Just because he had gotten his sanity back did not mean that his temper was gone; he would punish his followers for questioning him. Harry might not like it, but that is something he will just have to deal with.

It was about fifteen minutes later that he heard the faint pops of his followers arriving. One by one they came into the office: Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Barty Crouch Jr, Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodolphus, and his brother Rabastan; each taking a seat, curious as to why they were summoned. “I have captured Harry Potter,” he said, smirking happily at their shocked faces.

There were surprised gasps and exclamations, but one remained silent and devoid of emotion. “Severus, are you not pleased? Or perhaps, you already knew that I had him. You do, supposedly, work for the Order, don’t you? Tell me, what is Dumbledore planning?” Voldemort said.

Snape nodded. “The Order guessed that you were the one to take him. Dumbledore has everyone who can be spared out searching for him or your manor.  I’ve been ordered by Dumbledore to tell him if you have him or not once I return. If I may ask, how did you capture him?”

Voldemort stared at him hard. “I have begun questioning your loyalties to me, Severus. The boy has no occlumency training so penetrating him mind was as easy as breathing. I can see that you care for him even if he cannot. I wonder if your care for him is stronger than your loyalty to me.”

“My Lord, I would nev—” Severus said.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Voldemort said over him. “And I expect you to prove it to me now. I have plans for you and everyone else in this room,” he said, looking at each one. “I want you to—” he was interrupted by a light knocking on the ornate, oak door that led into his office. “Come in.” When the door opened, six wands were immediately pointed at the skinny, dirty clothed boy in the door way.

“Um, you asked me to come up here just to have your lap dogs point their wands at me? Just a bit of advice, I’m pretty sure that’s not how you’re supposed to greet guests,” Harry said awkwardly, slowly moving to sit in the only empty seat left in the room, next to his professor.

Voldemort chuckled, causing his followers to lower their wands, and stare in shock as the boy sat down. “Put your wands away, and sit down, now,” Voldemort said sharply, looking at Harry the whole time.

Everyone hurriedly did as ordered, looking at the Boy-Who-Lived in varying stages of surprise, anger, and distrust. Lucius spoke first. “My Lord, why is he here?”

As Voldemort started to answer, Harry interrupted, “Barty Crouch Jr is still alive? How?” he was staring at his former fake professor in shock and curiosity.

Several of the other’s went to reprimand Harry for his rudeness, but Voldemort glared them into silence.

“Do you honestly think I would allow one of my most trust-worthy, and loyal followers to be killed? The Dementors only acted like they gave him the kiss, and safely brought him here to the manor. Yes, Harry, the Dementors work for me,” Voldemort answer the unasked question building in the boy’s eyes. “To answer your question Lucius, Harry is here because he will be joining the Dark by taking my mark,” The room was dead silent before everyone exploded into shouts, trying to be heard over the other.

A loud “Quiet!” was heard over the noise. Everyone stopped yelling, sat and stared in surprise at an angry looking “Savior”.

Harry pulled his hands away from his ears, his eyes, a frightening Avada Kedavra green, practically aglow. “You all are worse than teenagers! And I should know considering I am one! I thought Pure-bloods were supposed to behave better than that. And you, Mister Dark Lord, I never said I would join you!” he stopped here to regain his breath, before continuing on in a calmer voice. “I haven’t agreed to join you _yet_ , but I am considering it. I’ve been here for what, two weeks? Of course, I was locked in a dank cell during that time, but Voldemort explained to me the problems with the light side, and how they lie and manipulate people for their own ends. I’m not saying that the Dark doesn’t have faults, because it does, but at least you guys are up front about it.”

“Of course, Harry,” Voldemort said, his gaze on his followers, a promise of future punishment held in it; he was outraged by their lack of decorum. “I apologize for implying that you had already joined. But now that we are on the subject, will you be joining?”  

Harry’s face took on a contemplative expression. Should he actually say yes? He would be turning his back on everything his parents fought against, everything his friends still fight against. But Dumbledore had lied to him, and too many others, had left him in an abusive household with full knowledge of what went on there, and still did nothing to help. The Dark, according to Voldemort, was very different from what he was led to believe. Voldemort promised he would know what was going on, and have a say in meetings. That was a lot more than Dumbledore ever gave him. Nearly five minutes had passed, with everyone holding their breath in anticipation, before he spoke. “I-I accept,” he said quietly.

Voldemort wanted to smile, but managed to keep a neutral expression. “Excellent!” he said, “Well, now that that’s done, I can get to the reason as to why I called you all here,” he addressed his followers, “Bellatrix, Rabastan, Rodolphus, Harry will need to know about Wizarding traditions, holidays, Pureblood etiquette, and our aims and goals of the war; I want all of you to teach him. He will need new clothes, school supplies, and anything else you believe he might need. Think of him as your child that you wish to spoil.” Harry went to interrupt, but Voldemort spoke quickly before he could. “Barty, you will be in charge of teaching him the Dark Arts; I want him to be well versed before school starts.”

Again, Harry made to interrupt, but stopped when he realized that made sense. He was joining the Dark; it only made sense for him to learn it.    

“Severus, you will be in charge of Harry while you are at Hogwarts. I will be expecting weekly reports on both him and Dumbledore. If something bad happens to Harry, I want to know immediately. Also, you may tell Dumbledore I have him, but because Harry’s mind is weak he will need Occlumency training to stop Dumbledore from finding out the truth when he returns to Hogwarts. You will see to it that his mind is closed enough before school starts to ensure Dumbledore cannot use Legilimency on him,” Voldemort said, at Severus’ hesitant nod, he continued on to address the last person in the room. “Lucius, I want you to bring Draco, and a few others his age that you trust to keep this a secret, to the manor for Harry to meet. He will need new friends that ar—”

“No, fucking way!” Harry shouted, everyone’s eyes looking at him in surprise. “I’m fine with everything else you just said, even if I didn’t understand that Occlu-thingy, but I will _not_ become friends with some puffed-up peacock who thinks that the world revolves around him.”

The room was silent. Lucius’ cold mask was shattered as he stared at Harry with a mix of shock and horror on his face. Finally Bellatrix’s high-pitched cackling filled the room. “I like him! Itty bitty Potter made Lucy lose his stony face,” she giggled. “Rodolphus, can we buy him some ice cream as a treat?”

Ignoring Bellatrix’s mad ramblings and her husband’s response, Voldemort addressed Harry sternly. “You need to know people your age that share _your new beliefs._ I will not have you second guessing yourself because of your Dumbledore loving, idiotic Gryffindor friends. They can help teach you about the Dark. Put aside your childish rivalry, and accept that Draco can be of use to you, a stepping stone, if not a friend. Do not forget that you are now one of my Death Eaters, I am not above punishing you for speaking back to me.” Secretly, he hoped Harry was smart enough to remain silent because he didn’t think he could actually Crucio him.

Harry opened his mouth before closing it right back up, he could see the logic in that statement. Draco may be a giant ass, but he did know a lot about wizarding traditions, and pureblood etiquette. “I can’t promise to like him or anyone else that I’m introduced to, but I’ll try to be civil. Do _not_ expect anything else from me,” he said.

Voldemort nodded in acceptance. “I believe it is time for you to take your oath, and the mark. Severus would you do the honors of overseeing the Unbreakable Vow,” he said, taking out Harry’s wand from his robe pocket, inwardly smiling at the thought of the new connection that would be made between them. He couldn’t wait to see Harry’s arm marred with is mark, with his symbol of ownership. He would be completely his. Well, almost; he doubted Harry would join him in bed so quickly, but this was a step in that direction.

Harry knew he looked terrified. He had known this was coming, but now that it was time, he wasn’t so sure about it. He breathed deeply before nodding his head resolutely. “Alright, but you can’t make it so that I follow your every word, and that I can’t at least send a stinging hex at you if you get too annoying,” he said, taking hold of his wand, smiling slightly at the comforting feeling he got from holding it again. He placed it in his pocket as he got down on his knees, Voldemort doing the same in front of him.

They grasped their right wrist together, and Severus touched his wands to their clasped hands. “Harry, do you promise to never kill me by any magical or muggle means?” Voldemort said, his voice almost echoing in the silent room. “I promise,” Harry answered dutifully, a red light coming out of Snape’s wand to wrap around their hands.

“And do you promise to only send mild hexes, charms and curses at me if you are going to harm me?”

“I promise.”

“And do you promise to never tell anyone of your friends, light or otherwise, that you have joined the Dark unless you receive my permission?”

“I promise.” And with that a blinding white light filled the room before quickly dissipating. Harry quickly pulled his hand away from Volde- his lord; he would have to get used to calling him that now, wouldn’t he? As he stood, he realized he didn’t feel any different, but he knew that if he tried to break any of those promises he would end up dead before he could even blink. It didn’t go unnoticed that Voldemort actually left a lot of wiggle-room in that oath, he couldn’t help but feel a little respect for the amount of trust he was being shown. He had been the guy’s enemy only a week ago, so it surprised him that Voldemort actually agreed to let him shoot hexes, and curses, at him. Dumbledore would never have given him that much freedom.

Voldemort was inwardly rejoicing as he stood up. He saw through the emotionless masks on his most loyal followers easily, they were all wondering why he had left so many holes in the oath. It was rather simple: Harry would hate him if he tried to control his life. He wanted a willing consort, someone who will converse and argue with him not some mindless slave. Harry would be the only one he gave liberties to: the only one allowed to call him by his name, the only one allowed to question him, but only in private or maybe with the Inner Circle around; he would have to think on it more. “Hold out your left arm, Harry,” he said, holding out his own left hand for Harry to place his arm in.

Hesitantly, Harry placed his arm in Vold- his lord’s hand. He knew this was going to hurt, he just knew it. No one got a tattoo without feeling some pain, and this was much more permanent than a simple muggle tattoo. He clenched his teeth as Voldemort hissed the incantation to mark him, but was still unprepared for the pain that washed through him. He clawed at his upper left arm with his right hand, and grunted painfully through his teeth before finally giving in and screaming loud enough to make his ears ring. It felt like hours, but was really only a minute, before the pain stopped.

Voldemort knelt down to where Harry had crumpled after he had let go of his arm. His lip was bleeding from where he had accidently bitten it in his struggle to remain quiet, and his eyes were blurred with tears. He pulled out a bottle of Pain Relief potion and a handkerchief, and gently began to wipe away the blood and tears. “Alright Harry, it is alright. You are stronger than most of my followers, many of them pass out from the pain. Take this, it will help with your suffering,” he said kindly, making the others in the room look at him like he had grown another head. He ignored them as he fed Harry the potion.

Shortly after receiving it, Harry felt the potion beginning to work. After about five minutes of whimpering in pain, and wondering why Lord Voldemort was cradling his head, he felt well enough to stand. Slowly, with his Lord’s help, he stood up. He still felt a little shaky, but the most bothersome pain was an itching, almost burning sensation on his left arm. He knew it was the mark, but was afraid to look at it. Instead he kept his eyes closed; looking at it would mean that he had to completely accept his new role in life as one of the Dark Lord’s followers. He had chosen this, he was the one that decided to join Voldemort, so he was the only one he could blame.   

“Harry, open your eyes,” surprisingly, it was Snape that said this which is probably the only reason Harry even opened them. “Look at your mark,” he said, sounding a little surprised and… worried?

Slowly, Harry looked down expecting to see an ugly black shape marring his arm, but was shocked to see that instead of black, his mark was in color. The skull was a smoky-gray, and the snake’s scales were all different shades of dark green. “Wha- Why? Why is mine different?” he asked. Everyone turned their heads towards their Lord, waiting for an answer.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow and said, “You are not a normal Death Eater.” He glided over to his desk chair, and took a seat. “You may leave, but I expect you all to coordinate what days you each will be working with Harry. There is only a month left until school begins so you will be starting your training with him tomorrow. Harry, stay here, I have more to discuss with you.” The others quickly cleared out of the room with a ‘My Lord’. No one noticed Snape giving Harry a concerned glance as he exited.

“Now Harry,” Voldemort began once the room was cleared, and Harry had taken the seat right across from him. “I have a few rules you must follow: You are free to roam the manor as you will, but do not open any locked doors and do not go past the wards around the garden, you will know where they are now that you have your mark. Stay out of the dungeons unless you wish to see things you will wish you had not,  and you are to come immediately when I call you either by House Elf or through the mark; just because I gave you a special mark does not mean that I will tolerate tardiness from you. I will assign one of my House Elves to help you whenever you need it, do you understand?”

Harry nodded slowly. He was feeling extremely tired and overwhelmed. The pain of receiving the mark, and the weight of everything that had happened was draining him of his energy quickly.

“Hopsy!” Voldemort called. Immediately there was a pop, and a happy looking, female House Elf, clothed in a nice looking pillowcase with a green ribbon belt, appeared in front of him. “This is Master Harry,” he said, nodding in Harry’s direction. “You will be in charge of him, and will answer any question he may have. Please, take him to the room I had you prepare earlier.”

“Yes Sir! Master Dark Lord! Please bes following Hopsy to yours room, Master Harry!” Hopsy said, happily walking towards the door.

Harry stood up slowly. “Thank you my Lord. See you in the morning,” Harry said, making a conscious effort to call Voldemort by his proper title. Or at least what was his proper title now.

Voldemort’s face contorted into a slightly angered expression. Harry was not supposed to think of himself as a lowly follower! “Do not call me that!” he almost shouted, causing Harry to jump in fright. “What- What should I call you then? You made me a Death Eater, isn’t that what they call you?” he asked, confused and nervous.

“I also said you were not a normal Death Eater,” he said in a calmer voice, realizing his anger was scaring him, and that he had forgotten to mention anything to the boy about how he should address him. “You may call me Voldemort or, when we are in private, Marvolo. But _never_ call me ‘my lord’ unless we are in an official meeting, understand?”

Still slightly scared, Harry nodded swiftly before following the cheerful house elf out of the office to his new rooms.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason I had Harry take some form of the Dark Mark is because Voldemort is possessive. The Dark Mark is something he created to mark all those who have pledged their loyalty to him, making them his, in his eyes. The Dark Mark is Voldemort's reassurance, saying that Harry is his even if they aren't "together", yet. Marking his "territory" as it were.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked chapter one. Not sure how often I'll be able to update it, but you can bet it will not be abandoned.  
> Comments and constructive criticism welcome!


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